


Pride Month 2019 (30 day prompt challenge!!)

by I_write_instead_of_sleeping (orphan_account)



Series: Dumpster Fire of Queen angst [3]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Author is bisexual and likes prompts, Celebrations, Coming Out, Concerts, Crying, Drinking, F/F, Fluff, Freddie Mercury is very gay, Gay, Gay Male Character, Gay Pride, Happy Ending, How Do I Tag, I APOLOGIZE, M/M, Men Crying, Multi, One Big Happy Family, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pride month 2019, Rainbows, Roadies are mentioned, Sad Roger Taylor (Queen), Slurs, Slut Shaming, Swearing, There's a fair share of crying, This is supposed to be happy for Pride but of course I have to make most of it sad and angsty, happiness, there's some trouble
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-04-24 11:26:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 12,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19172341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/I_write_instead_of_sleeping
Summary: Greetings! As a fellow bisexual and lover of Queen, I've decided to start this 30-day prompt challenge! Each prompt will be the chapter name, and I'll hopefully do as many as I can! (challenge taken from @amandanccoyart)PLEASE KEEP IN MIND THAT NONE OF THESE CHAPTERS ARE IN THE SAME UNIVERSE!!*WARNING: some chapters include homophobia, slurs, and objectifying. I will tell you which chapters will have these themes, this is just a warning beforehand**Day One: RainbowDay Two: BeginningDay Three: SexualityDay Four: GenderDay Five: HealingDay Six: FamilyDay Seven: RiotDay Eight: NameDay Nine: SupportDay Ten: Flag(s)Day Eleven: Pass(ing)Day Twelve: ClosetDay Thirteen: Child/childrenDay Fourteen: Past





	1. Day One: Rainbow (fluff)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Freddie has an "art project", and needs a bit of help from his roommates.

“Come on, dears! It’ll be fun!” Freddie’s extravagant voice flowered the quiet room of the flat. Freddie was sitting shirtless on a pile of spread-out newspapers in their kitchen, opening up large cans of body paint. 

 

“Remind me again why we agreed to do this?” Brian groaned, sitting cross-legged in front of the singer, the rest of the bandmates following Brian to the kitchen. 

 

“Be _ cause _ ,” Freddie started dramatically, “For my final art project, the teacher told us we should  _ be  _ the art.  _ Be _ the canvas. In order to understand the art, we must  _ become _ the art first. And I can’t paint myself, of course!”

 

John chuckled as Brian rolled his eyes. 

 

“I should be studying for finals right now. Do you know how brutal the sciences are?” 

 

“Darling, this is exactly why I brought us all here. Rog, you’re doing biology shit or something, Deaky’s doing some electrical engineering or whatever, and Brian...you’re talking about space or something?”

 

“It’s called astrophysics, and no matter what you think, it’s actually a very difficult program that--”

 

“--Now, now..” Freddie shushed Brian as the curly-haired man huffed and shook his head, “Whatever you guys are doing sounds hard. And you know what’s better than doing something hard? Doing something easy! Like art!” The man exclaimed, opening up a can of red paint. 

 

“Yeah, well maybe  _ finals _ isn’t exactly the best time to just  _ stop _ thinking about our classes?” Brian scoffed, crossing his arms

 

“Hush, hush, my dear. You’re just stressed. SO PAINT ME!” he shrieked, “Plus, this goes for 20 percent of my grade, and my class starts in two hours. So hurry the fuck up!”

 

Roger snickered mischievously, quickly grabbing a large paintbrush and dipping it into the red paint. 

 

“Better than studying.” John shrugged, finding the orange and opening it up. 

 

“Fine.” Brian huffed, grabbing the yellow and opening it up slowly, “What are we painting, then?”

 

All eyes were on Freddie, who laughed and shrugged. “I don’t give a fuck what you paint on me! Anyone got any ideas?”

 

Roger bit the side of his cheek in thought, twirling the paintbrush between his two fingers like a drumstick. 

 

“Well, we’re all the opposite of painters...something easy that we can just cover his whole body with?” Brian pondered. 

 

“Hmmm...I’m not quite sure..” John mumbled, his eyes squinting in thought. 

 

“Hurry up! My class starts in one hour and…” Freddie checked his watch, “53 minutes!”

 

“What about...a rainbow?” Roger thought out loud. Brian and John thought about it for a moment, before nodding quickly. 

 

“Ooooh, I like where this is going…” Freddie singsonged, raising an eyebrow at the three of them. 

 

“Alright. Let’s just get on with it, then.” Brian grumbled grumpily. 

 

Their swift movements tickled Freddie’s chest as the cold paint hit his skin. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and finally, violet swept across his chest, back, arms, neck, and with permission, face. 

 

Freddie learned from his art teachers that painting was always a relaxing thing, the sound of the brush against the canvas, the feeling and sight of a plain scape being splashed with such colours. 

 

Roger and John got into a playful argument, giggling and shoving each other in amusement, the two of them soon found paint being flicked onto their faces. Their blank slates were being touched with a little bit of colour. Roger playfully painted a smaller rainbow on Freddie’s ankle, and John painted Freddie’s eyelids with a piercing white paint. 

 

Hell, even Brian soon found himself laughing and sending paintbrushes flying, smearing colours onto Roger’s cheek and Deaky’s forehead, and Freddie’s already colourful face. 

 

As the four of them cleaned up the paints and kitchen floor, they were all laughing like mad, shoving each other playfully. 

 

And as Freddie bid them a “goodbye for now, my lovelies!”, and waltzed out the door of their flat as a giant walking rainbow, the man giggled to himself as he kept his biggest secret of the day. 

 

He didn’t really have class today.

  
  



	2. Day Two: Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Roger asks Freddie a very personal question.

“Freddie? When did you know?” 

 

The singer lifted his head up from his book to find Roger staring back at him from across the room. The fan they had to cool down the flat was turned up to its highest, but Roger’s soft voice pierced through the blowing of the fan. 

 

“How did I know  _ what _ , dear?” Freddie answered simply, setting down his book and beckoning Roger to come sit next to him on their ugly green couch. 

 

Roger looked down slightly, he almost looked embarrassed to be asking Freddie whatever he wanted to ask. 

 

“Where are Bri and Deaky?” Roger finally asked softly.

 

“At the store getting stuff for dinner tonight. Now what was your question again? When did I know I was…?”

 

Roger finally looked up at Freddie, the gaze from his blue eyes piercing the singer. Roger had that effect on people. 

 

“When did you know that you were gay?”

 

When Freddie didn’t answer, Roger grew flustered, stuttering, “O-or Bisexual, or whatever you identify with...you know what, it doesn’t even really matter, it was a stupid question to ask, just forget I said anything--” 

 

Freddie stopped Roger mid-rant, and chuckled naughtily.

 

“So you want to know when I started shagging men?”

 

Roger’s face grew redder, and he stood up abruptly. 

 

“N-no it's not like that! I was just--oh forget it..”

 

Freddie laughed again, “I’m just teasing you, my dear. You want to know about the beginning? Is that it? All you had to do was just ask, no need to be so flustered about it.” 

 

Roger felt his cheeks redden deeper.

 

“Now, let's just get on with the answer to your question.” Freddie stated, smiling a toothy grin.

 

“Now, let’s just say that it was never easy. Even when I was a kid, the shit drilled into my brain was that ‘all men must marry a woman’, and other dreadful things like that. And, well, I could never really make up my mind. Sure, I was fine with dating women, and for awhile, I didn’t even think about marriage. But when I went off to boarding school, lots of things changed.”

 

Freddie paused to take a sip from his glass of ice water. 

 

“For one, I had freedom from my parents. I was in a completely different country for christ’s sake. I’m sure all the kids knew what kind of an extravagant man I was even then. And if you’re wondering, dear Roggie, I’ve always been this way! Calling people ‘darling’ and ‘dear’ isn’t just a band thing!”

 

Roger chuckled slightly, imagining a little Freddie, dramatizing every little moment and calling his teachers and fellow classmates “darling”.

 

“Well, I would say that I always knew that shagging men would be on my agenda later in life, but I don’t think I was ready to admit that yet. After all of that homophobic propaganda they kept screening, I guess I was a little afraid of myself.” 

 

“And then I met Mary. Of course, you know about the little engagement we had for quite a bit, but that tour exposed me to so many things that I didn’t know existed. It was marvelous!” the singer admitted, “But, like most things, it just lead to guilt in the end. I would say that Mary helped me get through that rough spot, but in all honesty, I had to work at it myself.” 

 

The drummer nodded slowly, finishing his cool drink. 

 

“But to truly answer your question, Rog, I don’t think there ever  _ was _ a beginning. I never knew what I truly wanted. Hell, I  _ still _ don’t know what I want, even now. But I did know that when I wanted something, I wouldn’t stop until I got it.” Freddie admitted, “Honestly, what I want is here. In this flat. With the band. With  _ you guys.  _ I truly couldn’t ask for anything else right now. I may not know what I want, but I do know what I need.”

 

Freddie finished his story, and Roger nodded slowly. 

 

“But I  _ do _ have to ask; what brought this question up?” 

 

Roger thought for a moment. “I guess I just never really asked before, and I was a bit curious. Sorry if I invaded any personal boundaries or anything.” 

 

Freddie laughed loudly. 

 

“Darling, you know for a fact that I don’t even know what personal boundaries  _ are.  _ Please, feel free to ask away. There’s a lot of people out there that don’t want to talk about it. That’s okay, too.” Freddie explained, “But as for  _ me... _ I’ll gladly tell you anything you want to know.”

 

Roger nodded solemnly. “Thanks mate.”

 

“Anytime.” Freddie responded, “Ooooh! Did I ever tell you about that passionate night I had with this one man that was blowing so hard that he--”

 

“--Stop Fred! Too much! I don’t need to know  _ that _ much!” Roger giggled, sticking his tongue out and plugging his ears. 

 

“Well, I was sitting at a bar, you see. And--”

 

“FREDDIE!”

  
  



	3. Day Three: Sexuality (angst, h/c)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Roger has a rough night out.
> 
>  
> 
> **WARNING: PERIOD-TYPICAL HOMOPHOBIA AND HOMOPHOBIC SLURS ARE MENTIONED**

Roger slammed the door shut angrily as he entered the flat, leaving the other three roommates looking up at him from the living room. 

 

“Back from clubbing so soon?” Freddie asked, smirking, “What’s wrong? Didn’t find anyone to go home with tonight?”

 

“Piss off!” Roger spat back at him, his face red from anger. 

 

“Rog?” John asked, a confused look on his face.

 

“I don’t wanna talk about it!” he yelled, stomping into his bedroom and slamming the door loudly. 

 

“Well, clearly if he’s making so much of a fuss, he probably wants to talk about it.” Freddie said, furrowing his brow. 

 

“I’ll go check up on him.” Brian volunteered, downing the rest of his night-time tea. John and Freddie nodded tiredly, going back to their conversation and watching the late-night news. 

 

Brian crept over to Roger’s room. No light was leaking out of the crack under the door, so Brian assumed the man was brooding in the dark. 

 

“Roger?” Brian knocked softly. 

 

“Bugger off!” Roger’s muffled voice was heard from behind the door. 

 

“It’s Brian. I just wanna talk. Can I come in?” 

 

There was silence for a moment, before Brian heard the door lock click and Roger’s knob turn softly. 

 

Roger was still in his clubbing clothes, his hair a frizzy mess. He stared up at Brian and crept back to his bed in anger, groaning frustratedly at himself as Brian made his way into the room. 

 

“Are you...alright, Rog?” 

 

Roger blinked a couple times before opening his mouth again. 

 

“Oh, yeah. I’m fucking  _ peachy,  _ Brian. I’m sure you can tell. It’s just--fucking great..” Roger said sarcastically, growling under his breath. 

 

Brian knew Roger better than Freddie and John. And he knew that when Roger was sarcastic, he was feeling especially off. The man never had a problem speaking his mind before. But sarcasm? Brian was having it. 

 

“Brian, what the bloody hell are you doing--”

 

Roger had the wind knocked out of him mid sentence as Brian pulled the blonde into a tight hug. Unexpectedly, Roger stopped talking, and with a sigh, he melted into the taller man’s arms silently. 

 

“Jesus..” Roger mumbled, defeated, “I feel like complete shit, Bri.” 

 

Brian felt a feeling of relief. At least he was speaking his mind again. But a pang of sympathy hit Brian as well. As much as Roger would angrily or happily speak his mind, he had a hard time actually admitting when he felt badly. 

 

“I know. I can tell.” Brian replied, running a hand through the drummer’s soft blonde hair. 

 

The two of them sat on Roger’s bed for a good while in silence, their arms still wrapped around each other. Finally, Roger pulled away and Brian turned to face him. 

 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” 

 

Roger sighed deeply, clenching and unclenching his fists before finally opening his mouth. 

 

“It just makes me feel sick sometimes, what people will say…” Roger admitted sadly. Brian felt slight anger flare up inside of him.  _ What had they said to him? Who said it? _

 

“It was--it wasn’t a big deal, really. I was on the dance floor with a couple of people, when a gang of some big assholes, at least all over six feet came up to me and asked me why I dancing with women when it was clear that I was a faggot.” Roger sucked in a breath as he explained, “He said that ‘ _ fairies’ _ don’t belong in this bar, and that he knows people who will ‘fuck me up’ if I didn’t get the fuck out.” 

 

Brian frowned angrily, “Jesus..”

 

“I really wanted to punch him, but I figured I’d had enough bar fights already that I didn’t want to get beat up again. Especially before our next big gig. And usually I would ignore that kind of shit, but…” Roger paused for a moment, “I just didn’t have the energy. So I went home before I got tackled.” 

 

Brian went to brush back Roger’s hair, when he felt a wetness on Roger’s cheeks. He couldn’t see well in the dark, but he knew that Roger was crying. It made him even more enraged. 

 

“Rog..” Brian started, but Roger stopped him. 

 

“No..I know. It’s just that--I act like that stuff doesn’t get to me, but..I just can’t fucking stand it anymore! The way I dress, the way I talk, the way I dance, I just--”

 

Roger stopped to sniffle, burying his face in his hands. Brian put a hand on his back, but took it off slowly as he thought of a lingering question that always seemed to be on his mind lately. 

 

“Roger, are you gay?” 

 

The two of them went silent. They could hear the muffled sound of the late night news from the living room. Finally, Roger stared up at his friend, the dark shielding almost everything but a silhouette. 

 

“Would it matter if I was?” 

 

Brian felt himself smiling slightly in the darkness of the room, although he knew that no one could see it.

 

“No. Of course it wouldn’t matter.”

 

Brian immediately felt Roger slump down, the tenseness from his shoulders now gone. 

 

“Good.” he said quietly. 

 

Brian inched closer to his friend, and rubbed his back comfortingly. 

 

“I’m not gay, if you’re wondering.” Roger blurted out, “Or..well..not exactly straight either, I don’t think. I just--when I see someone I like, I go home with them. Gender never really mattered much to me..but thanks for listening, Bri. I understand if this changes things between us…”

 

Brian frowned, and enveloped the man into a cozy hug, draping the blankets over them.

 

“It doesn’t change anything, Rog. You’re my best friend. Always will be.” 

  
  



	4. Day Four: Gender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Brian has some doubts about the band's clothing style.

“Fred, is it weird that we dress like girls?”

 

Freddie raised an eyebrow as Brian walked anxiously into the kitchen. The singer took his eyes off the heating kettle on the stove and turned to face the guitarist. 

 

“It’s the seventies. We’re all dressing a bit feminine these days.” 

 

Brian bit his lip, staring intently at Freddie. 

 

“Yeah, but do you think its weird? Wrong? It's just that nothing we’ve been doing lately is very  _ normal _ , per say, and maybe we shouldn’t be doing it?”

 

Freddie shrugged. “I don’t see anything wrong with it. We can dress however we like.” 

 

Brian nodded sharply, and paced around the kitchen, “Yeah, I know. But have you ever stopped to wonder what people think?”

 

“Nope. I stopped doing that a long time ago.” Freddie said, grabbing an apple from the pantry and taking a bite out of it. 

 

“What’s going on in here? Brian was pacing up a fucking storm up and down the hallway while I was trying to nap.” Roger said, his face filled with slight amusement. 

 

“Brian thinks that we shouldn’t be dressing up like girls because he’s too worried about what other people will think.” Freddie said nonchalantly, turning the stove off when the kettle started to shriek. 

 

Brian frowned, “No! That’s not what I said! Bloody hell, Freddie, you’re turning your turning my words against me!” 

 

“Bri, we all look like girls right now. Jesus, look at  _ you _ ! Your hair is almost past your shoulders, Freddie’s got eyeliner on, I’m wearing a crop-top for christ’s sake, and Deaky’s wearing fucking go-go shorts!” 

 

John closed the book he was reading, and stood up, making his way to the kitchen. 

 

“You got a problem with my shorts, Rog?” John asked, a smirk on his face. 

 

“No, but Brian does.”

 

Deaky raised an eyebrow comically at Brian. “What did my shorts ever do to you, Mr. ‘nail polish?’”

 

Brian gritted his teeth nervously. “No--that’s not what I meant!” Brian said defensively, “I just meant that maybe people think that--”

 

“You need to stop caring about what people think. We can dress however we want. That’s the whole point of this decade, isn’t it?” Roger pointed out. 

 

“Yes, I suppose, but-”

 

“No ‘buts’”, Freddie shushed, “There’s no such thing as an article of clothing ‘meant for a girl’. That’s just what society wants us to think, so they can try and sort us each in a little box.”

 

Roger and John nodded his head along with Freddie. 

 

“And don’t even start thinking about what people will think. That doesn’t matter as long as we’re happy and making a difference with our music, right?”

 

Brian nodded.

 

“Good.” Freddie said, smiling, “Here, have some tea, grow your hair out long, and let's paint our nails again tonight. Fuck whatever other people think. If we want to dress as ‘girls’ as they say, then we’ll do it.”

 

“Alright” Brian said, chuckling. 

 

“And stop caring about what other people will think. It’s your biggest weakness, Bri.” Freddie warned. 

 

Brian smiled. 

 

“Alright, Fred

  
  



	5. Day Five: Healing (Angst, h/c)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Freddie gets jumped. Again.

Freddie got attacked on the way home again. Of course it was nighttime, on the way back from an unlucky night at the bar. And of course he had been alone, been vulnerable enough that a group of assholes could corner him under a street light and beat the shit out of him. 

 

They all knew why it happened. They all knew that some people didn’t agree with Freddie’s sexual preferences. But it didn’t make any of it okay.

 

It made them all sick. But this time, it made John feel even worse. 

 

He was supposed to go with Freddie to the club that night since Roger and Brian were doing something over at a friend’s house and wouldn’t be back until about midnight, but when the time came, his social energy bar was already low from a previous interview, and wanted nothing more than to lay in bed with popcorn and hot tea and a movie. 

 

And Freddie insisted that he would be fine going out alone. That he had done it before. That it was the perfect opportunity to go to a much “gayer” bar as he put it, one that John probably wouldn’t have gone to anyway. 

 

But of course, when Roger and Brian had come home and were just about to get into bed, a weak knock they heard from the front door, one that they probably wouldn’t have heard if they were just a couple more feet away. 

 

When Brian opened the door, what they found was pretty self-explanatory.

 

**

Freddie didn’t normally cry, but everytime something like this would happen to him, he always found himself shamelessly crying as Roger held an ice pack over his eye and Brian cleaned the drying blood off his face and John would rub his back and get him water and try to get the blood stains out of his shirt. 

 

Freddie thought of himself as pretty strong. But in times like these, he felt small and weak, completely powerless over what people could do to him. 

 

When the singer wiped away his tears, his eyes red and puffy as he held an ice pack over his eye and sat back into his bed, John would sit with him as Roger and Brian would put away the medical supplies and throw his dirty clothes in the washer.

 

“I’m sorry.” John said guiltily, feeling his eyes get misty, “I should have gone with you to the club.”

Freddie just smiled warmly and pressed his face into Deaky’s chest, letting the bassist hold him. 

 

“It's alright. I know this sounds terrible, but I’m used to getting cornered by now.” the singer admitted. 

 

“Just because it keeps happening doesn’t mean that its okay.” John said quietly, caressing Freddie’s cheek. Freddie laughed dryly. 

 

“I know. But all I can do is heal, now, my dear.”

 

Roger and Brian appeared in the doorway and sat down on the bed, the mattress sinking just the slightest as they sat. 

 

“How are you feeling?” Roger asked quietly.

 

“Like shit.” Freddie laughed, feeling a single tear drip down his cheek, “But we can’t do anything about it, can we? We can’t stop herds of homophobic people waiting for the innocent. We can’t stop the things that are said about me. About us. About everyone.” 

 

John moved to the end of the bed as Roger and Brian got in, leaving Freddie in the middle of the cozy warmth. 

 

“It looks like your eye is gonna be okay. It’s bruised up a bit, but it don’t think it’s gonna be a black eye.” Brian informed.

 

Freddie smiled a small smile. 

 

“That’s good. It means that those homophobic pussies were too weak to give me a real black eye. I’ve had worse, you motherfuckers!” Freddie said, presumably talking to imaginary versions of the little shits he encountered earlier.

 

“We should try to sleep. It’s pretty late.” Roger said, yawning loudly. Everyone else agreed, and John’s long arm shut off the lamp next to Freddie’s bed, enveloping the entire room in darkness. 

 

“Night.” they all said. 

 

Freddie felt safe as he drifted off. He knew he would always feel safe with them. It wasn’t like stuff like this wasn’t going to happen again to him, but knew he would be okay this time. 

 

He just needed to heal a bit. 

  
  



	6. Day Six: Family (angst, h/c)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Deaky feels alone. (Spoiler: he's not.)

Roger, Brian, and Freddie were attempting to make a chocolate Roulade in the kitchen as they barely heard the door shut softly, and soft movements across the hall. 

 

“Deaky? You home?” Roger yelled, attempting to mix a bowl of some chocolate mixture. 

 

“Yeah.” was the quiet reply. 

 

The three other men exchanged glances. It wasn’t exactly uncommon for Deaky to act quiet, but something about the uneasiness of his words were making them a bit unsettled

 

“Come and sit in the kitchen with us! We’re just about to make dinner once this fucking cake comes along!” Brian suggested. 

 

“It’s called a  _ roulade _ , my dear Bri. Much different from a cake. Did you know that it has no flour in it?” Freddie corrected him. 

 

Brian replied by flicking some of the chocolate into Freddie’s hair, the singer shrieking with surprise and cackling mischievously. Roger put down the bowl and decided to check on John, the bassist not replying with some witty or dry remark yet. 

 

When he exited the kitchen, he didn’t expect John to be hunched over slightly against the entrance of the hallway, his shoes and jacket still on him. 

 

“Deaky?” Roger asked, his voice full of concern. When he reached the bassist, he noticed how heavily the man was breathing. 

 

“What the hell?” 

 

He brought the man against his chest for support, and the quiet man melted into it instantly, quite an unusual encounter. But when Roger caught hint of the man’s breath against him, he furrowed his brow.

 

“Christ, are you  _ drunk _ ? A little bit early for that, huh?” Roger said, his voice thick with confusion and worry. 

 

“Don’ tell Fred n Bri..” the man slurred, leaning further into his chest, “...Promised I wouldn’t do it..”

 

Roger frowned, locking his eyes toward the kitchen, still loud with Brian and Freddie’s laughter. 

 

“Alright.” Roger sighed, “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

 

Roger lead John through the hallway to John’s room, where he place him on the bed, still sitting up. 

 

“Lemme just take your shoes and jacket off.” Roger told him, untying his shoes and unbuttoning his jacket. 

 

Roger was most definietly one to get completely shit-faced and might be the most irresponsible and immature bandmate at times, but he was also most definitely a mother hen when one of his bandmates got into trouble. 

 

John swayed slightly, coughing a bit into his fist. 

 

“You alright? Feeling sick?” Roger asked cautiously, sitting down next to him. The bassist shook his head slowly, looking utterly defeated. 

 

“Sorry.” John said slowly, and Roger looked over to find silent tears leaking out of his eyes. Deaky wasn’t what you would call a “sad drunk”, so Roger was a bit confused. Maybe he did something that he felt guilty about? Maybe he was just feeling sad?

 

“What’s wrong?” Roger asked softly, but John didn’t answer, as he stared off into a drunken nothingness, not bothering to wipe away his tears. 

 

“Darlings, where did you two go without a word? We were just about to--” Freddie’s voice halted as him and Brian entered Deaky’s room. 

 

They just had to look at him for Brian to say, You’re drunk.”

 

John nodded and Freddie and Brian crept over to his bed. 

 

“M’sorry..” Deaky mumbled, feeling his eyes close slightly as Freddie started running his hands slowly through his hair. 

 

“Why’d you do it, dear?” Freddie asked softly, “Feeling low lately?”

 

John could barely register what Freddie had just said before he heard an answer come out of his own mouth too quickly for him to stop himself. 

 

“I’m alone.” 

 

Roger frowned in sympathy, pulling the teary man close. “No, love. You’ve got so many people around you that love you…” 

 

Deaky sighed, trying to wipe away the oncoming tears. “Haven’t got a family..”

 

They all stopped their movements then. They knew that since John had come out, him and his family weren’t really on speaking terms. But they would have never guessed that it was causing the bassist some inner turmoil. He always acted like it never bothered him. 

 

They all dove in, hugging the bassist tightly until John felt just a shred of drunken satisfaction. “Thanks..” he slurred, closing his eyes as they laid him down onto his bed and tucked him in. 

 

“You have a family.” Brian said quietly, “You have  _ us.” _

 

John didn’t reply, but Brian knew the man had heard it, because a small smile painted across the drunken man’s lips.

  
  



	7. Chapter Seven: Riot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Freddie gets himself in the middle of a riot at a gay bar. Queen to the rescue!!

“Freddie, where the hell  _ are _ you? It’s almost two in the bloody morning!” Roger groaned into the phone angrily, running a hand through his messy blonde hair. The ring of the phone had woken all three of them up from their beauty sleep, and Roger was  _ not _ happy about it. 

 

“Look outside the window! Can you see it?!” Freddie yelled excitedly through the phone, his voice almost being drowned out by a crowd of yelling voices. Roger sighed and set down the phone. Wherever Freddie was, it sounded like a hell-hole. 

 

He walked over to the window, the silent night and city lights illuminating the night. In the distance, he could make out red and blue flashing lights. As he strained his eyes, he noticed more and more flashing lights from one spot a bit farther up in the city. 

 

Confused, he walked back to the phone. 

 

“Are those all  _ cops? _ Fred, what the hell did you do?” 

 

Freddie laughed, clearly a bit drunk. “Jesus,  _ I _ didn’t do anything! I was just partying away at this bar, when I guess a group of anti-gays--no--maybe it was a gang of some sort--busted in and started talking shit! There had to be at least 50 of them! Before I knew it, there were dancers in go-go shorts kicking the shit out of them, and pissed off drag queens throwing chairs!”

 

John and Brian walked tiredly into the front hall where the phone was as Freddie explained further just where exactly he was. 

 

“--And apparently the bar had a basement  _ and _ a top floor that I somehow didn’t know about so those people came down, and I’m ninety-nine percent sure that the entire fucking neighbourhood is in on this fucking riot! Bloody hell, there’s so many people, we had to take it outside and now everyone’s running around with booze in their hands and blood on their fucking fists!”

 

“Wait--what the hell is Fred talking about?” Brian asked, hearing the conversation through the phone. 

 

“Oh, it’s been so much fun! Just marvelous! I just wish you three were here with me now! Holy shit--SOMEONE BROUGHT A PARTY BUS--”

 

They could hear hundreds of people yelling and fighting around him through the phone, and Roger tried to imagine Freddie laughing his ass off in a phone booth in the middle of a riot. 

 

“So, is that all?” John asked, clearly agitated from lack of sleep.

 

“Well--it  _ was _ marvelous. Now the cops are here and people are getting tazed left and right and--I think I just saw a gun--y’all need to come and get me the fuck out of here!”

 

Roger shrugged. 

 

“Alright. Just hang tight. We’ll come and find you.”

**

The three of them sped down to Roger’s van and got in, hitting the gas pedal and speeding off. Normally, a typical person would try to stay far away from an active riot and where half the city’s cops probably were at this point. But Queen was never typical. 

 

When they reached the beginning of the riot, John stayed in the car to keep it running, while Roger and Brian linked arms, going into the eye of the storm. 

 

“HE SAID HE WAS IN A PHONE BOOTH! MAYBE WE SHOULD CHECK THE ONES OVER THERE?” Roger asked loudly, screaming above the hundreds of screaming people around him. Brian nodded, and they pushed their way among the crowd, trying their best to avoid the cops and people throwing punches.

 

They thought they spotted some nearby phone booths, when they heard a whizzing overhead of them, and a bottle land at their feet. Brian identified it as someone’s shirt lit on fire inside the bottle as the alcohol in it immediately exploded upon impact, sending shards of glass, fire, and booze everywhere. 

 

“SHIT!” Roger yelled, pulling Brian by the arm as people screamed; some in horror, most in excitement, as everyone started to peel their shirts off and get out their lighters. 

 

“HEY, WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOIN’!” a loud booming voice sounded as Brian bumped into the burliest, strongest man he had ever seen in his life. The guitarist was about to apologize, when the man grabbed Brian by the collar with one meaty hand, dragging Roger by the other into a nearby alley. 

The muffled sound of people screaming, bottles crashing, and police sirens were heard from this alley, but surprisingly, no one was actually in the damp, piss-smelling place but them.

 

_ This is it,  _ Brian thought in fear,  _ I’m going to die because of a riot that Freddie dragged me into. _

 

As the man pinned the two up against the alley wall, he paused for a moment before laughing loudly, his thick moustache moving as his laugh did. 

 

“Hah! You lot don’t look like you’re from around here!” he chortled, setting the two of them down roughly. 

 

“Well,  _ you _ look like you could get into this kinda scene.” he said, pointing to Roger, “But  _ you, _ Mr. Curly-hair, look like you’d rather be  _ dead _ than in the middle of this shit!”

 

Brian laughed nervously, feeling at his neck where the strong man had grabbed him. 

 

“But seriously, what the hell are you doin’ ‘ere? This place is a total HELL HOLE right now!” he asked, slapping Roger roughly across the back. 

 

“I--We--we’re actually looking for someone?” Brian said, stuttering nervously, “His name’s Freddie? You wouldn’t happen to know a Freddie Mercury, would you?”

 

The man paused for a moment, stroking his moustache, before coming to a revelation. “Oh, yeah! I know that little  _ bastard!  _ You two are fragile like dolls, wait right here or else you might get trampled! My name’s Rick by the way!” 

 

Rick stalked off, leaving Brian and Roger alone in the alley. 

 

“You alright?” Roger asked, grinning.

 

“Yeah, I’m good.” he replied, “So..this is where Freddie stalks off to when he says he ‘won't be back for dinner’, then?”

 

Roger chuckled, and nodded, “Freddie’s such a fucking prick, making us go out at two in the fucking morning. Poor Deaky probably thinks we abandoned him!”

 

Their conversation was interrupted as Rick stomped into the alley, dropping Freddie at their feet. 

 

“I really can’t thank you enough, Ricky darling~” Freddie purred, grabbing the man’s ass.

 

Rick smirked, “Yeah, yeah, you fuckin’ tease. Now go on, your friends came to get you, so get the hell outta here before the cops taze you!”

 

The three of them linked arms and ran into the massive crowds, trying to spot the car. As they avoided bottles being thrown and lighters being whipped, Roger finally saw his car in the sheer distance. 

 

“THIS WAY!” he yelled, pulling the pair towards the direction of the car. As they neared it, they saw a group of lesbians basically in the nude grinding the front and windshield car, poor Deaky looking around frantically frazzled.

 

“Alright, my wonderful women! Go grind the hippy van instead of our car, will you?” Freddie asked, amusement in his voice. The women rolled their eyes, and got off the car, running towards some pickup truck instead.

 

The three of them got into the car as fast as they could, and Roger hit the gas pedal as John scrambled to get into the passenger seat again.

 

“WOOOOOOO!!” Freddie shrieked out the windows, cackling as Roger shut them quickly. 

 

“Well, that was pretty wild! And look! Just in time, too!” 

 

Freddie pointed beside them as about 12 more cop cars pulled up to the riot, and Roger sped away as fast as possible.

 

“I can’t get another fucking ticket!” he hissed. 

 

“Thank you for coming to get me, my darlings!” Freddie thanked, blowing kisses to all three of them.

 

“Is this what you do in your free time?” John laughed tiredly. Freddie shrugged mischievously.

 

“Some things are better left a mystery, my dear..”

  
  
  


  
  



	8. Chapter Eight: Name (Angst, h/c)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which people forget that Roger has an actual name. He also has feelings. 
> 
> **WARNING: PERIOD-TYPICAL HOMOPHOBIA, OBJECTIFYING, AND HOMOPHOBIC SLURS ARE MENTIONED IN THIS CHAPTER**

“Hey, pretty boy!” 

 

The taunting whistle of a group of young men echoed through the nighttime streets in which the four of them were walking. No one said anything, but they all knew who it was directed towards. They were almost afraid to look over and see the reaction that Roger probably had on his face, but to their surprise, the blonde was grinning widely at the group, sticking up the finger. 

 

“Yeah, bet you’d  _ love _ to have a piece of this, wouldn’t you!” he yelled back, laughing loudly. Another whistle echoed from across the street, along with a lot of whoops and hollers coming from the men. 

 

“You know you don’t have to put up with that bullshit, right?” Freddie reminded the drummer, frowning slightly. Roger smirked, and patted Freddie on the back.

 

“Pshh, that bullshit doesn’t matter to me. Besides, whenever  _ you _ get catcalled, it's not like  _ you _ make it a big deal, right?” Roger pointed out. Freddie shrugged, and Brian wanted to point out that the last time it had happened to Freddie was well over a month ago. 

 

It was different with Roger. 

 

Yes, it was no doubt that he was beautiful. His smile, his laugh, his golden hair, his baby blue eyes, all of it combined made the beautiful man that was Roger Taylor. But it didn’t mean that he had to be objectified. It didn’t mean that people had the right to holler disgusting things about him. 

 

But, of course, people still did. 

 

And frankly, they did it a lot. Hell, even locals at the bars they went to, their drinking buddies, even their roadies had a habit of calling him things like “pretty boy”, “doll”, “little brat”, “girly”, which were all cute nicknames, sure. Even Freddie, Deaky, or Brian sometimes caught themselves calling him those kinds of things. And Roger never acted like he cared. He would just grin and go along with it. Just a nickname. It meant nothing. 

 

Even if he was being catcalled by strangers at least three times a week. 

****

Roger was fed up. 

 

It was yet another successful concert, the tour they had been going on was  _ amazing _ so far. And with a new city practically every night, Queen was living it up in the little tour bus that they call temporary home. 

 

With only staying in a few places at once, the usual afterparties they had needed to be cut short. A nice drink at the nearby club seemed to satisfy them enough. Crew, managers, roadies and all were invited to these nights at those many bars. 

 

They just couldn’t get enough of it. 

 

“Hey, brat! Get over here!” Monty, some roadie called out to him, preparing a platter of shots for the two of them. John was over on the dance floor with a bottle of beer (obviously), Brian was absentmindedly sipping from a pint at one of the barstools, and Freddie was taking an awful long time in the bathroom (if you know what I mean). 

 

Brian watched as Roger rolled his eyes irritably, and walked over to the man. 

 

“What the fuck do you want?” the drummer asked. 

 

“Aww, don’t be like that, pretty boy. C’mon, these shots aren’t gonna do themselves!” 

 

Brian watched as Roger sighed, downed most of his shots, and went to go sit at a barstool. Brian got up from his and moved to a closer one next to Roger. 

 

“You doin’ alright?” the guitarist asked. Roger bit his lip, but turned and grinned softly at the man, nodding him off and explaining something about hurting his wrist a bit while playing earlier that night. Brian took it as it was, and continued to drink. 

 

“Girly boy!” someone called from across the room, one of the crew members thrusting a pint into the blonde’s chest.

 

“Nah, mate. I’ve had my fill for tonight. Go give it to Deaky or something.” Roger declined, but the man wouldn’t take no for an answer.

 

“Just take it! You look good when you’re passed out.” 

 

_ Okay,  _ Brian thought,  _ that’s a little creepy. A lot creepy, actually. But nothing Roger can’t handle.  _

 

“Sod off…” Roger mumbled weakly, pushing the pint away. The man looked disappointed, but rolled his eyes and set the pint down at the bar for someone to take. 

 

“Oy! Blondie!” Freddie finally escaped from his bathroom escapade, a couple of good-looking men trailing behind him. 

 

“What?” Roger snapped, looking more irritated than before. 

 

“Darling, you need to relax a bit. Calm down, will you? Aren’t you having fun?” 

 

“No, actually. I’m really not.” Roger grumbled, and Brian frowned as Deaky walked up to the three of them, starting to chat excitedly with Freddie. They barely noticed as a group of burly looking men waltzed up to Roger.

 

“Hey there, little fairy boy. How bout’ I buy you a drink or two? You look like my type..” the first man said, smirking. 

 

“Not interested.” Roger grumbled, having enough of everyone’s bullshit. The first man frowned, but it soon came back to a sleazy smile. 

 

“Come on. You should be grateful. I’m practically  _ paying _ you to suck my dick! Why don’t you just take the compliment and take the drink, doll?” 

 

When Roger’s face became more and more angry, so did the other men. 

 

“Oh, come on. What do I gotta do to make a fairy like you to suck me off? Do I gotta tell you you’re pretty? Maybe fool around with you a bit?” 

 

Roger decided he had enough of this man’s bullshit, so he turned to leave when he heard the man scoffing under his breath. 

 

“Dumb whore.” 

 

Immediately he whipped around. 

 

“That’s not my name.” he growled, taking an aggressive step towards him. The man chuckled. 

 

“What’d you say?”

 

“I said,” Roger snapped, a little louder, “That’s not my fucking name.”

 

“Blondie! Did you hear that? Come a little closer and--” 

 

“That’s not my fucking name.”

 

“Hey!” the roadie from before, “Brat! You ready for some more shots?!”

 

“What? You’ll take booze from  _ him _ , but not from me? And I called you a cutie and everything!”

 

“Shut the fuck up! That’s not my fucking name!” 

 

Freddie went over to steady the teetering man, practically shaking with anger. “Blondie, you need to relax a bit. Maybe you’ve had too much to drink and--”

 

“--Come on,  _ fairy,  _ have a drink with us!”

 

“--Let us buy you a drink,  _ pretty boy _ !”

 

“--Come on, just answer the question,  _ brat! _ ”

 

“EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP--” Roger yelled at the top of his lungs, “YOU WANT A FUCKING DRINK SO BAD? HERE! TAKE THESE!”

 

Drinks went flying at the men who tried to pick him up, he found a bottle of beer on the ground and whipped it at the crew members’ feet, green glass flying. 

 

“FOR CHRISTS, SAKE, I HAVE A FUCKING NAME SO I’D APPRECIATE THAT YOU  _ USE _ IT.”

 

In the midst of all the anger, Roger felt his eyes grow hot with fast-growing tears in his eyes. So he flipped a barstool, and stormed out, walking angrily off to who knows where. 

 

“Roger!” “Rog!” “Darling!”

 

He heard three familiar voices run after him into the darkness, and he tried hard to wipe away the tears that were just now pooling onto his cheeks and dripping down his chin, but he grew unsuccessful. 

 

“What the bloody hell happened back there, you were being--Oh--Rog--” Brian breath caught in his throat when he saw their drummer in such a state. 

 

“You’re crying..” John remarked, walking closer to him. 

 

“Yeah, I-I am. I’m fucking human, believe it or not!” Roger snapped, his breath hitching uncontrollably with every word. 

 

“Oh, darling. Come here..” Freddie cooed, attempting to comfort the man, but the blonde just roughly pushed him away, not even bothering to dry his tears. 

 

“Get the fuck off me! I-I’m not an object, you know! You can’t just hold me whenever you like!”

 

“Rog..” was all Freddie said. The man usually  _ loved _ being hugged, especially for comfort. 

 

“A-a-and while we’re at it--I have a fucking name! My name is-isn’t ‘brat’, or ‘doll’, or, ‘pretty boy’, or-or ‘fairy’..” Roger said, full-on sobbing now, “My name is Roger! B-but I guess no one can remember that…”

 

Brian suddenly felt  _ extremely _ guilty. He had watched Roger get catcalled, get hit on repeatedly, and put into conversations that the man had looked obviously uncomfortable in. But he didn’t do anything. Because Roger usually put up with it.

 

“But you always act like you’re okay with it all..”John said quietly. 

 

“Y-yeah, you think I genuinely enjoy when people say disgusting things about me? If you were me at that bar earlier, I-I think you would think otherwise.” Roger spat angrily. 

 

“What the fuck did they say?” Freddie said quietly. Roger looked genuinely hurt for a moment instead of angry as he recalled the recent events. 

 

“Do you wanna know how many times I got called some kind of slur tonight? More than I can fucking count.” Roger said, his voice somehow remaining steady. 

 

“And all those people trying to get me drinks,” Roger continued, “One guy said he thought I looked good  _ passed out.  _ Do you know how fucking uncomfortable it is to hear that?” 

 

The looks on their faces morphed from worry to horror as Roger continued. 

 

“And then everyone was calling me a brat, acting like I’m a fucking prostitute, I just--I couldn’t take it anymore. And it wasn’t even from all strangers. It was--” Roger stopped, taking a deep breath, “It was like it was everyone tonight.” 

 

They all took in what he said in silence, and their eyes fell on Roger, who looked utterly defeated.

 

And when Freddie opened his arms once again, Roger didn’t hesitate to melt into them. 

  
  



	9. Day Nine: Support

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Freddie realizes that he's supported.

“Fred, we love you. You know that, right?”

 

Freddie looked up from his songwriting, a confused look on his face. 

 

“Whatever are you talking about, my dear Deaky?” 

 

The bassist’s face remained serious, not a line of amusement in his face. Freddie put down his pencil and stared openly at the man. 

 

“Deaky, I don’t really understand what you’re saying..” 

 

Roger and Brian, sitting on the couch made their way over to the table, sitting down silently. 

 

“We’ve been meaning to have this conversation for a while now.” Brian said. It was weird having all of them looking so serious. 

 

“Dears?” 

 

Freddie felt a wave of confusion and nervousness sweep over him.  _ Why aren’t they saying anything? What’s going on? _

 

“Fred, we know that you’re gay.” Roger finally said, a wave of awkward silence sweeping over the room. 

 

“Oh.” was all the singer said, feeling a knot of despair in his core. So that’s what this was about? Of course they had known, of course they had found out, of course he hadn’t been careful enough about it--

 

“Freddie?” Brian’s sweet voice brought him back to reality. 

 

“Why do you look so scared?” John asked, tilting his head in confusion. 

 

“W-well, because I’m--because you know that I’m--” Freddie couldn’t finish that sentence. It was weird how silent everyone was being. It was weird that no one was saying anything yet. 

 

“You don’t have to look so terrified,” Roger laughed. Freddie grew more and more confused when they started smiling once again. 

 

“Sorry,” Brian said, “We were trying to be all serious about it so that you were sure that we weren’t joking. But we wanted you to know that you have our full support.” 

 

“It doesn’t matter to us who you love, as long as it makes you happy.” John said sweetly. 

 

“You don’t have to hide it from us anymore. Just thought that you should know. We don’t have anything against it. At all.” Roger finished, smiling. 

 

Freddie felt his eyes get misty, but just smiled warmly. 

 

“Thank you.” Was all he said, and frankly, was all that he needed to say. 

  
  



	10. Day Ten: Flag(s)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Freddie and Roger go shopping for pride flags.

“Let’s go flag shopping!!” Freddie yelled, flinging Roger’s door open and dragging him out of his room. 

 

“Freddie, it’s too fucking hot to go outside..” Roger groaned. It was mid-june, and it dawned upon Freddie that they needed to decorate the house with pride flags in order to celebrate pride month.

 

“Just take Bri or Deaky with you!” 

 

“Oh, you know that Bri and Deaky are out somewhere today!” Freddie yelled, “Come on! It’s important to me! And let’s not forget that you’re hopelessly Bisexual, Roger! You need a flag for your room!”

 

Roger sighed, and got up, throwing on a pair of shorts and a light shirt, making his way into the hot sun. 

 

“Hurry up to the car! Come on, it’ll be fun!” Freddie yelled, turning the key to his car and cranking up the A/C. 

 

Roger groaned and sat in the passenger seat, the last thing he wanted was to move around. But, living with Freddie who seemed to be always moving, it was a struggle to find time to actually chill. 

 

They pulled up to this giant, rainbow store titled, “THE GAY STORE” in large rainbow letters. Roger snorted. Of course Freddie would know this place. 

 

They wandered inside, and Freddie immediately made a beeline for the flag section.  

 

“Hmmm..let’s see...transgender….pansexual...asexual...AHA! I found it!” Freddie pulled out a giant Bisexual flag, the pink, blue and purple blending perfectly together. 

 

“Oh! Look! I found a tiny one! How cute!” Freddie squealed, putting a tiny bi flag behind Roger’s ear. The drummer chuckled, grabbing a basket and browsing the rest of the store as Freddie went loco over the flags. 

 

He came across a double-sided dildo at the very back of the store, and laughing evily, he slipped the package into the bottom of the basket.

“Brian’s gonna love finding  _ this _ in his bed tonight…” He could just imagine Brian’s face turning bright red when he lay down to sleep and felt something soft and spiky poking him from somewhere in his bed. 

 

“Oooh, a bikini made out of candy...better get that for Fred..” Roger laughed, sifting through jeans and passing a section of Doc Martens. 

 

He thought he got completely lost in the store, when he finally felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around to find Freddie covered in rainbow tattoos. 

 

“They were giving them out for free and I couldn’t resist!” Freddie said, laughing mischievously and putting an array of rainbow flags and other items in Roger’s basket. 

 

“Ready to go?” Roger asked. Freddie nodded, and they made their way to the checkout line. 

 

As the worker scanned the dildo at the very bottom of the basket, Freddie looked at him with raised eyebrows. 

 

“Well, well well...now what exactly would you need  _ that _ for?” he asked naughtily. Roger chuckled. 

 

“Just you wait and see…”  

  
  



	11. Day Eleven + Day Twelve: (Pass[ing] + closet)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Brian finds out something unexpected at a bar.
> 
> (Since this chapter was so long, I decided to combine Chapter 11 and 12!)

_ The drinks here are pretty good,  _ Brian said to himself, sipping some kind of alcohol he had ordered from the bartender a while ago. He scanned the room, looking for something to do. The girl he had originally met up with had to go because of some family emergency, and there weren’t any guys so far that were catching his eye, either. 

 

“Want another one?” the bartender asked, wiping down the bar and putting away clean glasses. Brian raised an eyebrow at him before he realized that he had already drinken everything in his cup. 

 

“Nah, I’m okay as it is.” he replied politely, handing the burly man the empty glass with a thankful glance. 

 

_ Maybe I should just go home… _

 

He obviously wasn’t having any fun, and he was sure the girl who had left for some “emergency” was just saying that to get out of their date. 

 

_ I should’ve just stayed at home to have a drink. I don’t see why Freddie and John put me up to this date, anyway. I knew I would either get stood up or left behind.  _

 

His self-esteem felt fragile, and he wanted nothing more than to go home and rest. But he just couldn’t bring himself to get off his chair. 

 

_ Fuck it. _ He thought to himself, pulling himself off the dirty barstool and walking towards the exit. Just to be safe, he took one final look across the room. 

 

And boy, he wished he hadn’t. 

 

Dancing in the middle of the room, surrounded by at least ten men, was the most beautiful girl in the room. Brian could feel his heart beat in his chest. He felt exhausted, and he really  _ did _ just want to go home, but he just couldn’t take his eyes off her. 

 

Her black mini-skirt poofed up and down as she danced, her graceful and free movements captivating the dance floor. She wore white socks up to her knees and black flats. A white button-up tucked into her skirt made Brian think about the one he owned that look almost identical. Her hair was long, golden blonde with little bows sticking out of the top that looked like they would almost fall off with the ferocity of her dancing. 

 

Brian felt a blush creep up his cheeks, but his heart rate quickly went down. 

 

_ No, I wouldn’t be able to date her. She’s too beautiful for me. Maybe I’ll ask her for a drink and her number if she’s interested, but honestly, she doesn’t look quite my type. Still a charmer, though. _

 

As Brian got himself back together from his first glance at her, he sobered up and realized that, as captivating as she was, he probably wouldn’t end up dating her. Maybe a drink or two. 

 

He started walking her way, feeling his shoulders tense up as he neared the entrancing woman before him. But once he got closer, he felt his blood run cold. His face scrunched up with confusion. 

 

“Roger?” 

 

His face was decked with makeup, and he really  _ did _ look exactly like a woman. He already  _ did _ look very feminine, but with this whole getup, people who had never met him or know him personally would  _ never _ be able to recognize him. They would just assume he was a woman.

 

“Roger, is that you?” he said, louder this time. A few men around him stopped dancing and stared at Brian in confusion. The person who he was 75% sure was Roger Taylor but their lip, a flash of recognition and surprise going across their face. But they pouted their lips in confusion, squinting their eyes. 

 

“Honey, I think you have the wrong person.  _ I’ve _ never seen you in my life!” 

 

Brian stood there for a minute in confusion, but he ultimately knew that it was Roger. The facial expressions, the voice he was doing, Brian had seen and heard all of these things. There was no doubt. It was Roger. 

 

“Regina, you know this guy?” one man asked, a few more men stopped dancing around Roger and looked over in curiosity. 

 

“No!” Roger said, his voice higher than usual. 

 

“Roger, you know very well who I am! Now why don’t you tell me what you’re doing, because I’m  _ very _ confused right now.” Brian said, putting his and on Roger’s shoulder. He shook it off. 

 

“I don’t know  _ what _ you’re talking about!”

 

“Who’s Roger?” another man asked, frowning.

 

“I have no idea, this man’s insane!”

 

“It’s your bloody  _ name, _ Roger!” Brian replied, frowning, “What are you doing? Stop pretending that you don’t know me!”

 

“You told us your name is  _ Regina!  _ What kind of a girl’s name is  _ Roger?” _ the last of the men stopped dancing, and formed a circle, practically trapping Brian and Roger in the middle. 

 

“Regina?” Brian repeated, “No, his name is  _ Roger.  _ He’s my roommate. We’re in a band together.”

 

Brian watched as Roger’s face became paler and paler.

 

“What?” he asked, “Why are you looking at me like I said something wrong?”

 

“You LIED to us?! You said you were a bloody  _ GIRL!”  _ another man yelled, throwing his cup on the ground. The other men started growling, closing in on the blonde. 

 

Roger bit his lip harshly, looking so small that he almost didn’t look like Roger anymore. He pushed his way out of the crowd of angry people, yelling at him to “Get the fuck out!”, and turned to Brian.

 

“Fuck you.” Roger choked out, glaring at Brian with the most hatred he thought he’d ever seen. He clenched his fists, and ran out of the bar. 

  
  



	12. Day Eleven + Twelve (pt. 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pt. 2 of the previous chapter!

Roger exited the door as fast as he could, his face burning with humiliation. He dug through his purse and found his lighter, shakily lighting a cigarette and taking a drag. Roger couldn’t stop his hands from shaking.  _ They  _ had seen-- _ Brian  _ had seen and just had to go and fucking ruin it. He ruined it all. He ruined his confidence, his disguise from the real world. He exposed him it in front of  _ everyone.  _

 

“Roger!” Brian huffed, approaching the drummer smoking at the curb. Roger turned away from him, feeling his eyes well up with angry tears. 

 

When Brian approached the drummer, he felt his confusion grow even more when the man turned away from him. 

 

“Roger, what the  _ hell? _ Why did you pretend not to know me? Or--or actually--why are you dressed as a  _ woman  _ in some club, and why did you tell them that your name is--”

 

“Just SHUT UP, BRIAN!” Roger yelled, turning around, “Don’t say another  _ fucking _ word, or I’ll--”

 

Roger didn’t finish his sentence, instead took another long drag with shaking hands. 

 

“Roger, what the--” 

 

“I thought I told you to SHUT UP.” Roger snapped, throwing his cigarette to the ground and stomping on it. 

 

Roger couldn’t help but let the tears in his eyes stream down his cheeks shamelessly, feeling his mascara drip down his cheeks silently. A few silent minutes went by of the two of them standing next to each other at an even distance, before Roger felt his face scrunch up and gentle sobs start wracking his upper body.

 

“Why are you crying?” Brian asked softly. 

 

“Because I’m  _ angry.”  _ Roger growled, not bothering to wipe away his tears. His makeup was ruined already, so what was the point?

 

A few more minutes went by before Roger could hardly contain himself. He didn’t think that a memory him and Brian would share would be him ugly-crying outside of a bar dressed as a woman. But life was full of the unexpected, he guessed.

 

Roger finally sat on the curb, snifflinf quietly. He didn’t say anything when Brian silently sat down next to him. After about ten minutes, Roger turned to the guitarist.

 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be angry at you.  _ I’m _ the one that lied to them. You were just confused.” Roger said quietly, wiping away the last of his silent tears. 

 

“It’s okay. But..I still have no idea what’s going on..” Brian said back. 

 

Roger sighed and lifted his head back, staring at the night sky. 

 

“How did you know it was me?” 

 

Brian sighed. “Well, to be honest, I  _ didn’t _ know it was you at first. You looked like an actual woman. You still  _ do _ actually. But when I saw your face, I knew it was you. No matter  _ how _ much of a woman you look like. It’s...actually tripping me out a bit, to be honest..” Brian chuckled quietly. 

 

Roger turned to him and smiled somberly. 

 

“So I passed pretty well, didn’t I?” 

 

Brian raised an eyebrow. “What?” 

 

Roger laughed bitterly. “It’s..it’s ridiculous, really. I’m not really angry at you, Bri. I was just embarrassed. I’m angry at..myself.”

 

“Why?”

 

Roger sighed. “I just--I’m angry because I’m not satisfied with who I am right now. This...helps. Or I thought it would…” 

 

Brian didn’t say anything. 

 

“Sorry, it sounds ridiculous, really. This is why I didn’t want you to find out about it. I’m sorry if it changes anything between us or anyth--”

 

“No!” Brian stopped him, “Really, it’s alright. You shouldn’t have to hide anything from us. Really, I support what you do. It doesn’t change anything between us.” 

 

Brian felt Roger relax a bit. They didn’t talk for a few moments, just taking in the silence of the night.

 

“Dressing up like...this? How does it help you?” Brian asked curiously. Roger hesitated for a moment before giving his answer.

 

“It feels good. Like when I go out, I don’t have to  _ be _ Roger Taylor anymore. Some days, I feel perfectly fine being Roger...but other days, I can’t stand to look at myself..it's like it’s..” Roger paused, feeling tears resurface, “It’s like it’s some kind of torture.” 

 

Brian suddenly felt a pang of guilt. 

 

“I’m sorry.” he said guiltily, “I--I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to embarrass you, I promise! I probably ruined your whole night…” 

 

Roger sat up and smiled. 

 

“No, it's alright. I just felt fragile tonight, and I thought doing this would make me feel better...but it wasn’t really doing it for me tonight. Those guys were assholes, anyway. Would rather hang out with you.”

 

Brian felt a blush creep across his face. 

 

“W-who else knows about it?” he asked. 

 

“Freddie.” Roger replied simply. “He caught me in the act one night, and I couldn’t find any excuse, so I told him straight. He doesn’t care about it, though. He was actually the one who persuaded me to go out tonight.” 

 

“So John doesn’t know?”

 

“No. And neither did you, up until...well...you know..”

 

Brian smiled. 

 

“Well, I’m glad I know. I wish you told me when you were ready, though, instead of me finding out unexpectedly. 

 

“Well, maybe you should’ve stayed home, afterall.” Roger joked, elbowing him in the ribs, “Hey, what happened to that date Fred and Deaks set you up on?”`

 

“She left.” Brian said. Roger snorted. 

 

“Well, thank god. Now I can spend the rest of the night with you all to myself…” Roger laughed mischievously. 

 

Brian felt his cheeks blush red. 

 

“Well, wadda you say? Wanna go back home?” Brian asked. 

 

“Why don’t we go get a drink or something? I’m  _ far _ from tipsy, yet!” Roger replied, laughing and standing up from the curb. Brian stood up and joined him, both of them walking down the night street. 

 

Well, Brian got his wish in the end. He got a couple drinks with the enchanting woman on the dance floor. 

  
  



	13. Day Thirteen: (Child/Children)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the members of Queen talk about children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, everyone! My exams are finished, Summer had officially started for me, so I'm finally ready to start writing again!! I'll try to complete as many of these as I can before June is over, so wish me luck, darlings! It's harder than you would expect!

“Deaks, pass me my drink, will you?” 

 

John rolled his eyes and picked up Freddie’s drink, passing it to him. 

 

“You know the coffee table’s right there, right Freddie?”

 

Freddie groaned and took a sip of his drink. “But I’m in the  _ perfect _ spot right now. You know that perfect position, it’s not too hot...you wouldn’t make me move, would you?” 

 

John snorted, and sipped his own drink.  

 

“So how are the kids? How’s your new little one? Baby number three, huh? You and Ronnie have been getting frisky lately..” Freddie said  seductively, winking as John felt his face flush. 

 

“The kids are alright. Ronnie’s got a bit of a cold though…” 

 

“Oh, dear! I’ll set her up with my apothecary, she can get your lovely lady some herbs to help cleanse any awful ailment!” Freddie said dramatically, jumping up on the couch. The horror of what he’d done settled into him as he looked down at John. 

 

“I…” he said in shock, “I moved from my perfect spot...MY PERFECT SPOT!” 

 

John couldn’t help but laugh at the man’s dreadful realization, fake-crying dramatically as he fell back onto the couch.

 

“Ohhh...woe is me...what am I to  _ do,  _ Deaky? I don’t think I can get over this--”

 

Their heads turned as the doorbell to Freddie’s house rang, echoing through the large foyer. 

 

“Oh! That must be Roger and Brian!” Freddie said excitedly, immediately forgetting about the woeful loss of his perfect spot.

 

A few moments later, Freddie and company came bounding into the living room, drinks in hand.

 

“Jesus, sorry. Traffic is bloody awful trying to pick Roger up.” Brian apologized, sighing with contentment after finally being able to sit down after such an uncomfortable and boring car ride. 

 

“Yeah, and my kids just wouldn’t let get out the bloody door, those little rascals!” Roger piped up, sipping his newly poured drink.

 

Freddie giggled, and turned to Brian. “So, how are your little ones doing, my dear?” 

 

Brian smiled fondly, and settled more into the soft couch. 

 

“They’re all doing perfect. You know how kids can be, though.” he chuckled, and John and Roger nodded their heads in amusement and understanding. 

 

“Ohhhh, you guys should bring them all over on a special playdate here and they can play with all my  _ cats!!! _ ” Freddie proposed, giggling when he thought of little children playing with his precious kitties. 

 

The conversation drew on for a bit longer, before Roger stopped talking and turned to Freddie, his eyebrows knitted together curiously. 

 

“Fred, did you ever want children?” 

 

Brian and John went quiet, and all eyes went to their singer, who seemed lost in thought.

 

“Well, I don’t think I’d be a very good role model if I  _ did _ have children. I still act as one myself, after all!” he finally said, causing the other members to laugh.

 

“As for actually  _ wanting _ them, I don’t think you could really imagine me with little babies running around this house, would you?”

 

“It would look rather peculiar…” Brian said, a smile forming on his face as he tried to imagine the possibility. 

 

“Well, maybe if ‘people like me’ were aloud to adopt, I would have settled down with someone nice and adopted a couple kids. It  _ does  _ sound nice, but quite impossible I’m afraid..” he replied, taking a small sip of his drink. 

 

“What do you mean…?” John questioned before immediately realizing the point Freddie was trying to make. 

 

“ _ Homosexuals aren’t allowed to adopt children.”  _ Brian said blankly, putting his glass down. 

 

“I’d forgotten about that bloody stupid rule.” Roger growled, “What do they think you’re gonna do any less than a straight couple would?” 

 

“I haven’t a clue why not, but rules are rules, unfortunately. And someone with such a ‘lifestyle’ like mine would be turned down the moment I would drive into the parking lot of the adoption agency!” he laughed quietly, “It isn’t my time. It’s too late for me to have little babies running around  _ this _ house, but maybe I’ll live to see the day it finally happens.”

 

“I hope so…” John replied, “Now, why don’t we start making plans for our next album?”

 

**************

_ “...but maybe I’ll live to see the day it finally happens…” _

 

Brian could still hear the words burned in his head after that night. Even after years, he would never forget it. Especially not for awhile, because of today’s news. 

 

_ It’s 2002. Freddie’s gone. He’s been gone for awhile. But I can’t help but think about… _

 

Brian picked up his phone, taking a call from Roger. 

 

“Hello, Rog.”

 

“Did you hear?”

 

Of course Brian had heard it. The news, the country, and the  _ people _ were finally getting the rights that they deserved. He had heard it  _ everywhere _ today. __

 

_ “It is now legal for homosexuals to adopt children.”  _ he repeated the line he had heard everywhere into the phone, hearing Roger sigh loudly. 

 

“If only he was here to see it, he would be ecstatic, don’t you think?” Roger said, and Brian nodded, feeling a sense of longing in the air.

 

“Yes. Yes, he would have been.”  

  
  



	14. Day Fourteen: Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Freddie and Mary need to talk about some things. 
> 
>  
> 
> **PLEASE KEEP IN MIND THAT THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT AND SENSITIVE TOPICS**

Freddie Mercury did not talk about his past. Not his past lovers, none of his exes, or anything about himself from before he met Mary. He could talk for hours about  _ anything, _ he could enchant just about anyone and leave them starstruck, he could sing beautifully until his voice was almost gone, but he didn’t talk about his past. And Mary was okay with that. Freddie was already such a mysterious and mystical being, the latter just added onto his already alluring personality.

Everyone that had ever met him agreed that he was one of the nicest, most kind-hearted people they had ever met. They didn’t need to know about his preferences, or any secrets that he kept, or anything like that. He didn’t seem like he wanted to talk about it, so they didn’t.

 It was okay. Until it wasn't really okay.

********

 

“Aright, this calls for a toast!” Roger yelled loudly, motioning for the bandmates, their girls, and their manager to hold up their glasses. 

 

“To Queen!” Freddie bellowed. 

 

“To Queen!” they all yelled, glasses clinking.

 

They sipped their drinks periodically, talking and laughing amongst themselves. They were about to go on tour to  _ America.  _ If the UK didn’t already love them, they would soon have another country loving their music, too. Everyone was  _ ecstatic. _

 

“Yes, Brian! Another round of shots, darling! My, Deaky! I didn’t know you could drink so much!” Freddie snorted, picking up a couple shot glasses and downing a couple himself.

 

“Dear, don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Mary asked, amusement shown clearly on her face, “At this rate, I’m going to have to carry you home!”

 

Freddie just laughed and linked arms with Roger, the drummer giggling playfully, and the two started to sing a familiar song, slurred and slower with their drunken speech. 

By the end of it, Freddie was, in fact, completely shit-faced. Freddie barely ever got this drunk, and Mary found it quite amusing as she guided the man home through the darkened streets, following the streetlights to their shared flat.

 

“Hmm...hmmm...she’s a killlahhh….Queeeeeeeen….” Freddie mumbled playfully, bobbing his head up and down to the hit song. 

 

“Freddie, you’re exactly the same when you’re sober, I hope you know.” Mary giggled, tripping a bit on some uneven sidewalk. 

 

“Darling, I wonder if I would be able to climb that street post...I think I’ll try it!”

 

“Why don’t you ask me tomorrow when you’re sober?”

 

“Whaddya talking about? I-I’m completely sober!”

 

“Yes, dear, you keep telling yourself that.”

 

They finally came up to the flat, where Mary fished her keys out of her purse and unlocked the door, the two of them stumbling in and turning on the lights. 

 

Freddie didn’t even wait until their shoes were off before he smashed his lips against hers, pushing her slightly into the wall of the front hall. 

 

“I want us...I want us to make  _ love _ , Mary…” he breathed, tightening his grip on her waist and kicking his shoes off. Mary giggled and took her flats off, following him to the bedroom and practically falling onto the bed.

 

Mary took her shirt off, leaving her bra and skirt on for the meantime, while Freddie took off his shirt and the two of them made out. Mary felt herself filled with passion and love, but she couldn’t find herself to be aroused. Freddie’s movements seemed almost...forced. 

 

She wanted to continue, though, and he looked like he wanted to go all the way this time. 

 

“You’re so beautiful, Mary...I love you.”

 

“I love you too, Freddie...” 

Freddie pulled Mary’s skirt down slowly, their lips still entwined together, and she began pulling down his pants.

 

When Mary dared herself to reach lower, she heard a gasp come from her lover. She frowned. It didn’t sound like an excited one, or a sexy one, for that matter. 

 

She parted their lips and frowned at him. “Are you alright?”

 

Freddie sighed shakily and stared longingly at her. “Of course. Now let’s finish what we’ve started…” 

 

Not completely satisfied, she continued anyway, letting her hands wander closer to Freddie’s stomach, reaching his boxers. She felt Freddie’s hands graze her panties, and they continued to kiss until Mary parted it again.  _ Something doesn’t feel right about this. _

 

She lifted her head up quickly as she heard a shaky breath come out of the raven-haired man. As quickly as that, she noticed his hands were rather shaky, now taking them off of her. She into his eyes, and gasped quietly at the tears that were visibly forming in them, threatening to fall. 

 

“I’m fine...we can keep on going…” he choked out, bringing his lips to hers once more, but Mary moved her head to the side, rejecting it.

 

“Freddie…” she said quietly, and just in a matter of seconds, the man’s eyes flickered and he collapsed onto her chest in tears. She ran her hands through his dark hair, attempting to wipe away his never-ending flow of tears. 

 

“Freddie, what’s wrong?” 

 

“I--I love you s-so much, Mary. And all I want to do it ma-make you happy...but I’m  _ trying _ and I don’t think I can...” he whimpered into her neck, trying not to choke on sobs. She felt a pang of guilt. He seemed so lost, and the look in his eyes could break her heart. Mary caressed him until his breath stopped hitching and his steady flow of tears halted.

 

He finally sat up in shame, sniffing and rubbing at his eyes which were red and puffy from crying. They sat in silence for some time, and Mary pondered on what had just happened. She knew what was coming. She knew exactly what he was going to say. She didn’t feel angry, just...confused. Probably not as confused as  _ he _ was.

 

But she needed him to say it himself.  _ He _ needed to say it for himself, as well.

 

“I’m sorry.” he finally croaked, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

 

“Freddie,” she started, “I think we need to talk about some things.”

 

“I know.” he responded quietly. 

 

She smiled warmly, welcoming him into her embrace. “I won’t be cross with anything you say. But  _ please _ be honest.”

 

Freddie straightened up, and leaned towards her, a somber look on his face.

 

“There are a few things that I think I need to tell you.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it was about time that Mary come into one of these chapters. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!!!


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